Post Mortem
by Wandering Violinist
Summary: House is dead, and with some help he must remember what he left behind on Earth in order to move on. House/Thirteen
1. The Act of Remembering

"What the hell is this?"

The whiteness of his surroundings almost blinded him as he opened his eyes. House slowly looked around and met the gaze of two familiar faces.

"Amber…? And Kutner…?" For the first time in a while, he wasn't sure what was going on.

"We've been waiting for you, House." Amber stood up, her white clothes blending in with the whiteness of the bus and endless sky behind her.

"So I'm dead," House rolled his eyes and laid his head back. Everything was white except for his clothing. Bringing his arm up to eye level, House realized he was dressed in black.

"There's something you need to do back on Earth, isn't there?" Kutner asked. "Your clothes… they're different because of that. Do you know what it is?"

House closed his eyes. _Something I need to do… _"No… I don't remember," he stammered.

"That's normal," Amber was pacing back and forth in the small aisle on the bus. "But that's what we're here for. We're going to help you remember. And then you'll go back to Earth and do what you need to do. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

"Forgetting things is normal here?" House looked around, realizing his cane was not with him.

"Do you remember how you died?" Amber stopped pacing and stared at him.

House paused and thought for a moment. He couldn't remember _anything. _Well, not anything important. "…no."

Amber gave a satisfied smile and continued pacing. Kutner stretched and smiled at House. "You don't have your cane anymore. Try walking."

House snorted, annoyed. "Fine." He stood up slowly and Amber moved out of the way as he began his walk up and down the bus aisle. _It doesn't hurt anymore._ House smiled to himself and returned to his seat.

"What do you think of that?" Kutner asked, looking at House's leg.

"It's… interesting." Looking up from his leg, House stood up and turned to Amber. "Okay, enough with this. When will I be able to remember?" He hated that he needed their help, but he had no other choice.

"Impatient, are we?" Amber snickered and Kutner stood up. "You'll remember soon enough. We should take it slow; we have a lot of catching up to do."


	2. How He Died

"We know how you died," Amber taunted, giving House a mischievous smirk. House ignored her and looked forward. _Still a bitch… _

The three passengers got off of the idle bus and began walking in the whiteness.

"There's nothing out here. It's all white," House said, sighing. He turned his head slightly to look at the bus that was slowly disappearing from view.

"Don't worry," Kutner said, picking up on House's rare uneasiness. "We know where we're going. The bus won't be going anywhere for a little while." House nodded and they continued their walk.

"What do you do here? It seems that this place would get boring after a while…" House mused aloud.

"It's not so bad," Kutner answered brightly. "We reminisce most of the time… about good things though, nothing really negative."

"Sounds boring," House concluded. Their pace was not hindered by House's curiosity, but the white silence returned.

"So, I guess now would be the time for us to help jog your memory," Amber said after a moment, looking down. House nodded.

"It was raining on the day you died," she began, still walking. "Everything happened so fast. You didn't know what hit you. The accident attracted lots of attention. Many people were worried about you, despite what you might think."

"It was an accident?" House's mind began to churn. He wanted so badly to remember. "Wait… I was heading home on my bike and—"

"The truck came out of nowhere," Kutner interjected. He was quickly met with Amber's icy stare. "What? I want to help…" He quickly turned to House. "The other guy ran a red light and hit you." In a flash, much of House's final moments returned to him.

_The rain was pouring relentlessly on the ground. The roads were becoming slick, but House was adamant—he would ride his bike home._

"_Are you sure you don't need a ride?" Wilson asked as House was leaving._

"_I'm sure. See ya."_

_House headed outside and walked as quickly as he could to his bike. Revving it up, he sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. He wasn't speeding, but the slippery roads pushed the bike along at a fast pace. His last thoughts were on his piano, dinner, and something else… someone else._

_The last sounds he heard were car horns blaring and tires squealing. Before he left Earth, House could see people rushing to him, but he knew it was too late. As his eyes closed, a figure knelt before him, trying fruitlessly to revive him. _Oh God, _he thought. _Why does she have to see me die?_ The last thing he saw was her. She was screaming, crying for help, but he couldn't speak to her. He slowly closed his eyes, leaving her alone in the rain._

House's eyes flicked open suddenly and he realized that he was back on the white bus.

"You're awake," Amber said. She was sitting next to House with a serious look on her face. Detecting House's look of confusion, Amber added, "When you remembered, you sort of blacked out. In order for you to remember your final moments better."

"But I didn't remember completely," House said resignedly. "There was someone there before I died, and I couldn't figure out who she was."

Kutner gave House a mischievous smile from across the aisle. "We know who it is. I'd like to tell you, but it's against the rules…"

"Rules?" House scoffed. "This place has rules?"

Amber rolled her eyes. "Forget about that. Right now you need to concentrate on that person. Now that you remember your final moments, focus on her. What does she look like? Do you know her? Why was she there?"

As Amber continued to suggest questions for him to think about, House ignored her. Instead, he decided to focus on the contentment he was feeling. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way. It was as if he didn't have a care in the world. But he knew that he did, and his black clothing was a reminder of that. Sighing, House closed his eyes, relishing this moment of painlessness.


	3. Life and Death

They sat together silently on the bus. No one made a sound for the longest time, and House continued to enjoy the absence of pain in his leg. Only a short time seemed to pass when Kutner broke the silence with a question.

"Are you happy that you're dead?"

"Is this the kind of 'catching up' you were talking about earlier?" House asked, glancing at Amber. He quickly returned his gaze to Kutner and answered his question. "Why the hell would I be happy? I'm stuck here with you two." Amber frowned at his response.

Kutner laughed. House rolled his eyes and laid his head back as a question formed in his mind.

"Why did you kill yourself?"

Amber jumped up and stared down at him. "House… don't…"

"Well, there's nothing else to talk about. Can you really hide the truth in death?" House had his eyes closed now, still waiting for a response from Kutner.

"Looking back, I realize that by dying… I caused everyone some pain," Kutner said sadly. "But I just… got sick of pretending. Every day was just… I couldn't force myself to be happy. But, I know that I hurt you… I'm sorry." He looked at the floor, his lips pressed together in a pained expression.

"That's it?" House looked over at Kutner. With a sigh, Kutner shook his head slightly, never looking up at House.

"I just didn't want to trouble anyone with what I was feeling… what I was going through. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I was still alive…"

House sighed and turned to Amber, who was still staring down at him. "What about you? How do you feel about death?"

"Death…" Amber's expression softened and she sat down next to House. "I guess you could call it a mixed blessing. It is nice here, in this ethereal place, but I do miss being alive. At least the white light is comforting…" Amber motioned to him and Kutner, who sat across the aisle and smiled. "…and I'm not alone anymore."

Although Amber spoke as though she was content in this place, House noticed that her expression was thoughtful yet saddened. He wanted to push her, to say aloud that she was lying, but something was keeping him from doing so. It was as if all negativity had been erased from him.

"I think that's enough for now," Kutner said slowly. "Right now we have to return to your thoughts. You need to remember what you left on Earth."

House nodded and at the same time a sharp pain jolted through his leg. _What the hell? Why…?_

Amber smiled at them and folded her arms. "Shall we begin?"


	4. Her

"Wait." Amber and Kutner looked at him with confused expressions. The pair quickly grew concerned when they saw House grasping his leg.

"You're in pain," Amber said quietly. "We're taking too long. You need to remember what you left behind on Earth before the pain becomes more pronounced… maybe even permanent."

"What would happen if it became permanent?" House gave her a stern look, but on the inside, he was extremely worried.

"You would look like that forever," Kutner chimed in, pointing to House's dark garb. "And you would not be allowed to stay here… because of your unfinished business. So we'll leave you alone to think." And in an instant, Kutner and Amber disappeared from House's sight, leaving him alone with the eternal whiteness.

Another jolt of pain coursed through his leg, and House knew that he didn't have much time. Closing his eyes, he focused on his memory of the woman who watched him die.

_She has piercing blue eyes,_ House thought as the image of her became easier to distinguish. _And long brown hair… _The image of her when he died was complete in his mind, but he still lacked the memory of something important. _Her name… is…_

Like the time when he remembered his final moments, the memory of her returned to him immediately.

"_House," her voice tried to reassure him, "We did everything we could." _

_House tried to ignore her, but when he turned to look at her, a small, grateful smile spread across his face. She mimicked him, smiling a little in spite of the fact that they lost their patient that day._

"_Will you be all right?"There was concern in her eyes._

_He thought for a moment and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." He gave her a small pat on the shoulder and left his office. _

_A few minutes later, the accident happened. House was laying on the asphalt, bleeding and fading away. _She must have left right after I did,_ he thought. _Now she has to see me die. Neither one of us… expected this…_ Her final words were clear as his eyes closed slowly, her hand firmly holding his. _

"_Oh no! House, no! Don't go! Please, I…"_

_But he didn't hear the end of her sentence, because he was already gone._

"Remy…" House said, almost in a whisper. He had returned from his memory but he did not notice the figures sitting across from him until it was too late.

"Remy? You never called Thirteen by her real name before." Kutner looked puzzled. "Is she the reason why you have to go back?"

House stood up suddenly and looked down at them. "Yeah…" The sharp pain that coursed through his leg once again reminded him that he had to hurry. "I have to go now." He headed for the front of the bus as if he was being pulled by some immense force. House reached for the door when he heard Amber's calm voice.

"Good luck, House. We'll be watching."

Looking back at them, House realized that both Amber and Kutner had knowing expressions on their faces. _Damn it! What do they know that I don't?_

He slowly turned away from the two figures in the aisle to face the door at the front of the bus. Staring at the exit for what seemed hours, House collected his thoughts and pushed the door open, descending into a white abyss, hoping that it would lead him to her.


	5. Distance

_Note: Sorry for the delay! My computer is having some trouble, and I'm working on fixing that. Until then, expect the next chapter to be delayed a bit as you for reading!_

* * *

The sky was overcast, and the ground looked wet. House saw these things, but he could not feel the cold puddles of water he strode through. The hospital loomed ahead, and as he walked House passed unnoticed by the few people on the sidewalk.

"I guess this isn't a dream, I really am dead," House said to himself.

He finally reached the hospital—his workplace until now—and entered without a need to open the front doors.

Strolling through the hallways, House noticed that everyone seemed a little melancholy. Rolling his eyes, he quickly concluded that the mood throughout the building was due to his recent death. House's curiosity rose as he reached the doors to his boss's office.

Lisa Cuddy was seated at her desk, eyes on the ceiling. As House approached her, it looked as if she had tears in her eyes. _Well of course, she just lost the best doctor this hospital ever had, _House snickered as he praised himself. He couldn't continue to watch her cry—that was not why he returned. As he left, House thought about the real reason he was there.

_Remy..._

On the way to his own office, House passed by his good friend James Wilson's office. Stepping inside, House wondered how Wilson was reacting to his death. The room looked bleak and unusually dark. Wilson was seated at his desk, mulling over some papers sitting in front of him. House placed himself next to Wilson so that he could see what his friend was looking at. It was a eulogy, and as House read what was written, he couldn't help but smile appreciatively.

"Thank you, Wilson," House said softly.

At that moment, Wilson turned around at stared through House. Looking disheartened, Wilson returned to his writing.

House finally reached his office, wondering on his way there whether Wilson had actually heard him speak or not.

The office was not vacant when House entered. Taub, Chase, and Cameron were seated at the table in perfect silence. Cameron was the only one who looked upset—tears were falling noiselessly down her face.

"Where's Thirteen?" Chase asked, ending the disturbed silence.

"She left early," a voice answered. House turned around to see Foreman standing in the doorway.

Chase nodded in understanding, ending their short conversation on the subject. Foreman slowly began walking toward House and, to House's surprise, passed right through him. Before he sat down with the rest of his colleagues, Foreman shivered.

_I can't just wait here until tomorrow! I have to see her now! Dammit…_

House left the three doctors in silence and wandered to the front of the hospital. Another sharp pain ran through his ghostly leg, and House cursed.

"House," a familiar voice said. House turned to see Amber with a smile on her face.

"How did you get here?"

"I'm only in your mind. So I didn't have to travel far," she replied, smirking.

"Great…"

"So, she won't be back here 'till tomorrow, huh?" Amber asked. House nodded and she continued. "Well, if you _really _want to see her, just concentrate. Picture only her in your mind."

As House closed his eyes, Amber disappeared and darkness took her place. When he opened his eyes, House was no longer in the hospital lobby. It was still dark here, but it was a small, somewhat familiar place. Turning to look in front of him, House was met with the lifeless gaze of Remy Hadley.


	6. A Moment of Insanity

He did not want to see her like this.

Of course, House was relieved that he was able to find her. But she looked so unlike herself that it disturbed him. _She didn't smile often, but when she did…_

"Smile, please…"

She was sitting in a simple chair, its back against the wall. Her eyes were still dull and her gaze was far away. As he stared at her, House wondered what she was thinking about.

_Don't do anything stupid, _he thought as he moved closer to her.

"Remy," House placed his translucent hands on her shoulders, but he knew that he would not be able to comfort her this way. _Don't be like this… _"I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want to die…"

Thirteen wrapped her arms around herself. "So… cold…"

House moved away from her and turned to the window. The rain was still falling, but the sun looked as if it was trying to come out from behind the clouds in an attempt to lighten the mood. When the clouds finally broke, House slowly turned back to look at Thirteen, hoping that the sun might wake her from the state she was in.

Blinking slowly, Thirteen looked up at the temporary sunlight shining from the window. In that instant, her teary eyes widened as she gasped.

"H…H…House…! How are you here?!" Alertness quickly washed over her face as she stood in front of him.

"You can see me?"

They gazed at each other for a moment. Thirteen stared in disbelief and reached out to touch House's ethereal form. When her hand passed through him, she recoiled and sat back down.

"No… I'm just losing it… he's not there… There's no reason for him to be…"

Thirteen looked up toward the window again and sighed. The sunlight was gone, and so was any visible trace of House. He was still there, invisible to her tearful eyes.

_I do have a reason to be here,_ House thought. _If only I could tell you…_

"Don't leave me here… time… time is always running out… I didn't know… I wanted to…"

Tears fell from her eyes and Thirteen buried her head in her hands. House wished that he would have been more careful that day, maybe he should have told her then, before it was too late.

He sat on the floor next to her, reflecting on the words that she uttered. _Time… I guess time was never on our side to begin with._

Pausing, House looked up at Thirteen, disheartened. _If only there was some way for her to hear me, at least…_

"Remy," House said her name slowly, just for the sake of saying it once more. Thirteen's head snapped up.

"…House?"

House stood in front of her, but she continued to look right through him. _This might work…_

"Are you in my mind?" Tears were falling down her face, her head in her hands once again.

"No… I'm here. Please believe me..."

"Are you a…ghost?" She choked on the last word.

"Something like that," House responded.

"Why did you come back? Did you really want to see me like this? You can see me, can't you?"

"There's something I need to do. I need to tell you—"

Before House could finish, there was a knock at the door. Thirteen cursed under her breath and slowly stood up, walking to the door. She quickly wiped the tears from her face before opening the door.

Wilson was standing on the other side of the door. House stood behind Thirteen as they spoke.

_Why the hell is he here? _House wondered.

"I heard that you weren't handling this particularly well," Wilson said as Thirteen reluctantly motioned for him to enter. He had a relieved look on his face. He was probably glad to see that she hadn't done anything too reckless.

"I'm fine. I'm handling it like any normal person would handle someone dying."

"I'm just… surprised that you're this upset about House," Wilson said bluntly.

"I'm surprised that you're not," Thirteen retorted.

Wilson was taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he sighed. "I'm sorry. I just didn't think you were very close to him… Is there anything I can do?"

House wondered what she was thinking. If it was him, he probably would have told Wilson to go away. House would have wanted to be alone if he were in mourning.

"I… was talking to House before you came," Thirteen said after a while. She was looking at the floor.

Wilson looked incredulous. "Remy, he's dead. You can't be serious."

Thirteen looked at him, completely serious. "I did talk to him. Why won't you believe me…?"

"Any other time, I would believe you," Wilson said, heading for the door. "Not today, though. I just… don't want to get my hopes up too high. I'll miss him, but I'll have to wait until I'm dead to speak with him again…"

Before he left, Wilson turned to Thirteen. "I'm sorry about all this. Please… take care of yourself."

The door closed with a soft click, and Thirteen was alone again. House stood next to her, wondering if he should speak.

"Are you still here?" She asked.

"Yes."

"What do you need to tell me?" Thirteen was staring at the window.

The sharp pain in his leg returned as House tried to think of what he needed to say. "I… don't remember."

Thirteen frowned. "…I wanted to tell you something. But I'll wait until I hear what you have to say. Is that all right?"

"Yes."

Although House knew his time was running out, he wanted to be with her for a while. He could handle the pain. He had to.


	7. Nightmare

_Note: Apologies for the _extreme _delay! I've been so bogged down with school work and life that I'd lost most of my inspiration.. But now I'm hoping to finish this story up sooner rather than later. One might consider this chapter to be a bit of a filler, but I believe the action will advance more within the next chapter or two. Thank you for reading and sticking with this story after so long!_

* * *

House watched silently as the numbers on the digital clock nearby changed.

_12:51_

_12:52_

_12:53_

He could see that time was passing, but he didn't _feel _it. Not like he used to. As he stood in Thirteen's quiet, dark apartment, House considered whether he liked this new form of his. For the most part, it seemed better than when he was living—his leg rarely hurt now, save for a sharp pain every now and then. But that would increase if his dead guidance counselors were right. He was running out of time—just another thing he couldn't control, only observe.

Despite that, House _did _feel something different, something he didn't feel before death, or perhaps if he did it was something he chose to ignore. Making his way to where Thirteen slept, House watched her, noticing that feeling becoming even stronger. Was it… admiration? No, although he did admire her bravery and will to live against a disease that would inevitably kill her, the feeling was more intense than that. House tried to shrug it off, determined to deal with it more later.

Thirteen mumbled something in her sleep, and House turned his attention back to her, noticing a tear traveling slowly down her cheek. _So she does cry, _House thought. _I guess I owe Wilson fifty bucks… once he kicks the bucket. _House moved closer, realizing another thing he'd lost—the ability to dream. Thirteen was probably doing just that, or she was being haunted by some nightmare. _What do you dream about…?_ House placed his ethereal hand over Thirteen's forehead and was suddenly transported from the dark confines of the apartment.

House found himself surrounded by mirrors, but there was nothing reflected in them. Not until he heard her voice.

"Help me…"

Thirteen's image appeared in each mirror, and House could see fear in her eyes as her reflections stared wildly at him. Her reflections moved away, and Thirteen herself materialized from between two of the mirrors. In an instant, the fear vanished from her eyes and she rushed towards him.

"House! You're okay…"

House panicked, assuming he was only an observer in the dream, and Thirteen's expression changed once again, this time to one of confusion and worry. "What the hell is happening…?" House looked at Thirteen who stood not far from him and reached a hand out to her, but there was nothing there. He was invisible, a ghost again. He began to feel as if someone were pulling violently at his invisible limbs, tearing away at him. The scenery around them changed, and House found himself in a cemetery surrounded by a forest. Thirteen stood nearby, and they both faced a simple headstone.

"I wonder how it feels to die," Thirteen mused aloud.

"Not as bad as you might think," House replied. His voice echoed oddly, but Thirteen didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge his presence. House looked around again and the tearing feeling returned.

"Now that you're gone, I'll die so painfully. I'll dread every day… and when it finally comes, I'll be so alone. I'm scared…"

Invisible forces pulled House from the dream, and he watched as the cemetery and Thirteen, who continued to stare at the blank headstone, disappeared from his view. _Dammit! _He returned to the apartment and moved away from where Thirteen slept, thinking about what he saw. Death must have always been at the front of her mind for her to have dreams like this. But he didn't know for sure, and he didn't feel like asking. As much as he wanted to know everything, he felt it was only right to give her at least a little privacy, especially after seeing her nightmares.

A sliver of moonlight filtered into the apartment through a partially uncovered window and illuminated the floor next to House. Not much time had passed since the dream occurred, and House glanced back at Thirteen, who was still asleep, somehow.

He couldn't let her die alone, no. House made a promise to himself in that moment as his ghostly form floated by the moonlit window, to be there somehow when she finally turned down that road from which no one can come back. But he couldn't die twice, so what could he really do?


End file.
